I Blame Her
by Spazzumtard
Summary: Sybil Trelawney is not a seer-and she knows it. But she's desperate. Come read a twist on the infamous interview where the Prophesy that started it all was born.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

**ANs are at the bottom. There is an interesting thought in them so check them out!**

* * *

Sybil Trelawney was not a happy camper. Actually you could say she was a 'camper' with how frustrated she was. That was the third notice she had received from her landlord saying she will be evicted if she did not pay rent. Surely he could understand that one needed money to pay for ones rent. Food came first, of all things. Her landlord had told her he understood that and had given her a little leeway on the due date but she never seemed to have the amount needed. After all, cooking sherry did cost a shiny sickle.

What she needed was a job.

No, what she needed was a plan! Yes, a plan to GET her a job.

Looking through the Prophet Classifieds, she spotted a Hogwarts job request. _Hmm_, she thought, _I wonder...I am the great-granddaughter of Cassandra Trelawney._

Sybil frowned in deep thought. She knew she wasn't a seer like her great-grandmother. So how would she get the job? Could she fake a true prophesy?

She wasn't in Slytherin for nothing!

Well, Hufflepuff, but she SHOULD have been in Slytherin.

–

Albus Dumbledore was not a happy camper. Actually you could say he was a 'camper' with how he had been up all night. Not only had young Tom killed yet another Wizengamot member, but he had just received a floo call from his brother saying there was a Miss Trelawney at the Hogs Head asking for him.

As he entered the bar, he saw his brother with a very..._exasperated_ look on his face talking to a woman that looked very out of place dressed as a gypsy. When Aberforth saw him; his eyes lit up with both relief to finally be done talking to this strange and brightly colored person and pity for Albus himself. As she turned around, the Headmaster barely hid his flinch at the magnified eyes behind thick glasses.

"Albus Dumbledore!" the dragonfly exclaimed, throwing her arms about dramatically. Albus saw his brother duck, afraid that one of her many bangles on her wrist would fly off and smack him on the nose. "A pleasure to finally meet you in the flesh, though I have met you many times..." she stopped. Albus stared at her curiously and was about to open him mouth to ask what she meant when she continued, "**With the Sight**!"

Albus felt very out of his comfort zone-something he was not used to. "Um...yes, Ma'am. May I ask why you wanted to see me?"

She laughed. "Of course! I knew you would ask, but wanted to let you have the opportunity before I answer. I oft forget not all are blessed with the Sight!" She whirled her skirt around dramatically as she stood from her stool. "I am here to accept the job as the Divinations professor."

Dumbledore's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. Thinking it best to humor the crazy person, he said, "Oh, yes. Of course. But don't you agree we should conduct the inter-"

"Interview, of course!" Miss Trelawney interrupted, having watched very carefully for the chance to 'prove' her skills. "I'm sure your brother will let us use his private room, as I have already Seen us inside." Of course, before Albus arrived, she had asked Aberforth if he _HAD_ a private room, but no bother.

Aberforth nodded; eager to get this woman away from his other customers. "Right this way, please."

Albus didn't know what to think. On one hand, he wanted to be polite to this mentally disturbed-and quite possibly drunk-young woman. On the other, she was quite obviously a fake and he couldn't in good conscious hire her.

Once seated in the private room, Albus began the 'interview'. "What is your full name?"

"I knew that would be your first question. I am Sybil Trelawney, great-granddaughter to renowned seer Cassandra Trelawney. The Sight skips three generations, which is why there have been no other Trelawney seers since my great-grandmother until me." _Yes, that explained that quite well_, Sybil thought to herself.

Albus nodded. "And, why do you want a job at Hogwarts?"

Sybil figured why mess with a good thing and answered typically, "I have foreseen myself in a classroom; helping young children with minimal Sight exercise it to become strong."

The headmaster raised an eyebrow and, with a kind of sigh that the faux seer had heard before, he shook his head. "The art of Divination has been found to be...unheeded in the school. I am sorry. I cannot give you the job you seek."

As he stood to leave, Sybil was panicking. She NEEDED this! Time to finish.

_**"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches..."**_

Albus froze as he heard the raspy voice. That was not the voice she had used before. He turned back towards her slowly.

_**"Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... **_

Albus heard a commotion outside, but paid it no mind. This was a true prophesy! This was the downfall of Voldemort!

_**"And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..."**_

Sybil 'returned' to her own mind and shook her head as if to clear it. Oh, how she hoped it worked. She looked up at the Headmaster and forced a confused look to her face at his open mouth. "I'm sorry that the Sight was wrong-perhaps it was a different school-"

"No! No, Miss Trelawney. I was mistaken. We do have need of you in the castle." _If only to keep you safe_, he thought.

Sybil's eyes widened, making them seem to grow five times their normal size behind her glasses. It actually worked? It worked! She smiled brightly; she would not be living on the streets. Oh, she knew playing on the man's need to defeat You-Know-Who would do it. "Thank you, Headmaster! When shall I come to the castle?"

"Immediately!" he answered. _Better to get her to safety as soon as possible_. "There are living quarters as well, so you have no need to find a place here in Hogsmeade."

Sybil nodded and agreed to move to the castle that night. And what's best, the elves would get her as much cooking sherry that she could ever ask for.

It is too bad for one little boy born on the 31st of July, the **Prophesy** that will dictate his life and see he never reaches his full potential... was as much of a fake as his Divination Professor.

* * *

**I can't believe that no one has written something like this before. I have yet to see a story where the Prophesy was made up. Now, before anyone starts flaming or whatever—I understand that under high amounts of stress, things trigger. I just wanted to make fun of Trelawney.**

**Now, as for something that bothers me a lot in bunches of stories I read (and also has absolutely NOTHING to do with this thing I wrote), I see almost every 'Sirius Black Gets Freed by the Ministry' story outing all the blame on Crouch (yes, that's right) and Fudge (WRONG!). Fudge became Minister in the year 1990. Sirius was put in Azkaban November 1981. Millicent Bagnold was Minister for Magic 1980-1990. So, why is some—if not most—of the blame put on Fudge?**


End file.
